Milk
by booksindalibrary
Summary: Tsuna is Decimo and sent by his mother to buy milk. And then the worst happened. Crossposted from AO3.
1. Milk

**set tyl!verse.**

* * *

"Tsu-kun," Nana asked, "could you get me milk from the supermarket? We ran out."

Tsuna, nearly tripping at the door, said, "Yeah, sure. I'm headed that way anyway." He checked his watch. "I'll be back around five? Is that okay?"

"Of course! I know your job keeps you busy," Nana smiled. _Like that man,_ she nearly added, only to remember Iemitsu had been due home for three months and still hadn't returned. At least _Tsuna_ still returned, even for short spurts, to see his mother.

"Juudaime," Gokudera greeted him outside his house eagerly. "The car's ready."

Tsuna nodded. "So, this family – no drugs, right?"

"Right."

Tsuna sighed. "Another long meeting. Maybe Reborn's suggestion of drinking coffee is a good one. Oh, and Gokudera, I'm going to the supermarket after this to buy some milk."

"Yes, Juudaime," he agreed readily, already thinking of security precautions.

~o0o~

he hummed down the aisles, thankful he was wearing normal clothes. Gokudera had tried to insist on the sort _Giotto_ wore, and while he wore it at meetings, he sure as hell wasn't going to wear to the damn _supermarket._

After buying the milk, he left the store, phone pinging. Tsuna stopped, seeing it was from Gokudera, looking at it-

 _ **RUN GET OUT OF THERE JUU-HJKL**_

A typo? A prank? But neither were like his Storm Guardian. Tsuna frowned, calling the number. When the call didn't go through, he wondered what had happened. Gokudera _always_ answered within the first five rings-

Pain. Pain exploded in his chest and his gut and his body. He couldn't feel his legs, he could only watch the ground surging upwards to catch him as he fell. He fell onto his side, coughing, the vague sound of tires screeching dimly registering.

 _Mother,_ he asked calmly, _can you make this pain go away?_

Screams. Oh, be quiet, he wanted to say, it was only a scratch. But a scratch wouldn't mean lying on the ground or all this...blood around, his mind reasoned.

Huh. He was injured.

A voice. "Call an ambulance," someone ordered, then pressure on his wounds.

 _You won't make it,_ his intuition, his Vongola, Hyper Intuition, told him.

Oh, shut up. You have shitty timing, he told it.

His phone on the ground. The owner of the hands was speaking to him, telling him to stay awake.

"Kaa-" he gurgled.

"It'll be all right," the voice said soothingly.

"Kaa-san," Tsuna spat out along with a mouthing full of blood. "Call – please..." each word was a struggle to get out; why like this? Why had fate – no, don't think about that. Not yet, not yet, _live._

The voice spoke again as though through water, and cold was by his ear. A shaking hand, Tsuna vaguely saw.

"Tsu-kun?" Nana chirped down the line.

"Mum," Tsuna mumbled.

"Tsu-kun?" This time more frantic. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Sorry," he slurred, the cold in his limbs deadening. "I'm – sorry. Love you."

Was he crying, or was it raining?

"Tsu-kun, tell me what happened," this time pleading, desperate.

"Injured" was all Tsuna said. "I love you. Thank – for not giving up – on Dame-Tsuna." Oh god, could he do this? Yes, he could. He had faced down so many, he could.

"Tsunayoshi," and his full name was almost too much.

He panted for breath, his intuition screaming at him to _live_ and his heart crying _why like this_ and his mind searching for a way out.

"Mum. Tell the others – love them. Reborn. All. A-and thanks. For staying with Dame-Tsuna."

A wave of peace, and then as it faded pain was brought back, dulled now. The voice was speaking again, telling him to _live._

 _I know,_ he told the voice. _I know, I want to too._

"Sorry," he mumbled, and his mother was telling him he didn't have to apologise for anything. "I'll – waiting. Happy. Peace." He was lying. He didn't know what to think. "Warmth." But he was cold. So cold. He reached out for Flame but there was none.

"Not anyone's fault. Stay – happy. Love...you..." This time his mind was fading with his body, and it was cold and painful but at the same time comforting.

His mother was saying soothing things now, singing that lullaby from when he was a kid to chase away the monsters. He smiled to himself, the blood pooling out even further and more screams soundings.

Sirens as well, but weren't they too late? How long had it been?

He couldn't feel the hands applying pressure any more, and the shaking hand with the phone was still there. He held up a hand, ignoring the person's request to stay still.

"Thank you," he said again with great effort, to his helper than to anyone else. A man, huh, he thought. No, a boy.

"You too," he said to the person with the phone, seeing it was a girl. It was calmer now, the words coming out easier. The pain still mocked him but- it wasn't so bad?

"Love you," he mumbled again. Was the milk all right?

His eyes slid shut, and then he tried to force them open again.

A light. When his eyes closed, a light beamed out at him, and so he didn't fight it anymore.

" _You did well, Decimo,"_ a voice told him.

Yeah, I guess I did, Tsuna replied groggily. Everyone's alive, and Byakuran hasn't destroyed the world yet. I got Xanxus to speak to me normally...normal for him, anyway.

"Love you," he murmured again, and this time it was for good.

He didn't move again, and all around him the sound of screams and sirens announced to the world the Vongola Tenth was dead.

* * *

 **Prompt:** **"Okay but imagine tsuna being shot at some random place like the supermarket because some mafia members wanted him dead and once the perpetrators leave to avoid cops, he asks someone that was near to take his phone and call his mom to tell her he loves her before he passes out" (noodleexplosion tumblr)**

 **while this is a one-shot, I wrote two more sequels which will be added to this one (eventually.) Please leave a review on your way out! if you have a prompt, feel free to ask on my tumblr - (I forget on and I'm always up to write more, even if it takes ages lmao)**


	2. Cigarette

Gokudera lit up another cigarette and leaned against a lamp post by the car.

"Sir," the driver said after awhile, "there's... _activity_ behind us."

Gokudera didn't respond for a moment, then casually looked over.

It was then they fired, at first missing. Gokudera swore and thanked them silently for their terrible aim, before reaching down for his boxes-

But then there was regret. Why? Gokudera froze, staring down at his leg in shock. He had been shot – _shot?_ How the hell had someone managed to get a hit on him?

His leg crumpled underneath him, and he heard shouts and tyres screeching.

"Driver," he spat out, forgetting the man's name, but one look told him he was dead. The blood on the windshield was from his head, and _oh shit_ what was happening?

He fumbled with his pocket, then wriggled out of phone. He tried to fire off a text, then miss-fired.

"Shit, sorry, Juudaime," he mumbled, dropping the phone and tying off his leg. The blood was going everywhere. He had to buy a new suit, he thought stupidly. The cigarette had fallen out, lying discarded.

"Juudaime," he groaned, "Please be okay." He gripped the lamp post, hauling himself up and wishing he could magically heal himself. He allowed his body to slide back down as he focused on his hand, at the rings, trying to light his Flames. Only a flicker emerged.

Panic ensued. He clenched his hand, then flexed it out again. This time only Storm flickered.

"Wrong fucking one," he spat at himself, ignoring the concerned looks and the people hesitantly approaching. He didn't have time for this. He sent a shitty text, and he was too far away.

Why had he allowed this to happen? He was a failure, he told himself repeatedly, a fuckin', no-good, goddamn _failure._

"You shouldn't move," someone said nervously to him as he managed to rise, leaning heavily on the lamp post.

"Fuck off," he snapped, somewhat groggily. His palms were scratched and bleeding, and the blood was still trickling out. He could feel it dripping down his leg.

"Juudaime," he said desperately as he turned the corner. He had heard gun shots, he knew, but Tsuna was _Tsuna._ A few guns and the cockiness of their enemies couldn't bring Juudaime down – Xanxus had tried that method and failed.

So then what was the crowd doing there?

What were the shouts for?

What were the sirens and the panic and all the rest for?

Gokudera shoved through the crowd, the sight of blood stains and the look of fear on his face making a path for him.

He had to force himself to look at the body on the ground, and when he did he collapsed.

"Juudaime." He whimpered the title, reaching out, touching his face gently. "Juudaime, stop pretending. This prank isn't funny."

He was tipping over, and hands were propping him up. He flicked them away, on his knees in front of Tsuna. "Juudaime..."

He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving?

"Juudaime," he said again urgently.

There wasn't any blood, he told himself. He was sleeping, that was it. He poked at him again.

His phone was lying near his head, and Gokudera looked at it, dry-mouthed. He picked it up, wondering if it was okay to do this.

He swiped at the screen, realised he didn't know the pin, then set it back down, craving another cigarette. He was shaking, still shaking, as the emotions came crashing down around him.

And he tipped his head back, staring up dully at the sky as the ambulance pulled over, wondering what the best way to go would be.

* * *

 **I like this one bc I think it's more emotional than the tsuna one. I got two more to publish in this, which will be over the next couple of days.**


	3. Game

Yamamoto ran like he was running at Koshien, only this time there was no victory at the end. A single call from a low-ranking subordinate who had seen _the event_ had placed enough fury in Yamamoto to rival Xanxus.

He slowed as he approached, feeling violently ill. The crowd was still there, an ambulance pulling up. He shoved through them, the sight of the sword throwing people off. And when the police arrived, he wondered who would talk to them.

Then he reached the centre, and his gut dropped.

"Tsuna?" He asked, voice wobbling. Gokudera was leaning back, eyes wide and empty. There was blood soaking through his pants, hands and face smeared with blood.

"G-Gokudera? It's too soon for Halloween," Yamamoto said, walking forward, tapping his shoulder.

Gokudera's eyes slid to Yamamoto as paramedics entered the scene. Police were swarming as well, an uncomfortable feeling for Yamamoto who normally ran from authority.

Blank eyes met his. "Baseball idiot," Gokudera said, invoking the nickname Yamamoto thought he had abandoned years ago. Gokudera toppled, Yamamoto catching him before he hit the ground. He set him down, then turned to Tsuna.

"Ma, Tsuna, stop it now," he said, before gagging. Quickly recovering, still standing over the Vongola Decimo, he felt his smile drop and melt away.

Tsuna always stopped pranks before they got this serious. But maybe he was upping his game with actors? He had the budget for it.

A paramedic shook his head, and one boy with red gloves was shaking, sitting on his legs, hands on knees, head bowed.

"Tsuna," Yamamoto said urgently, prodding him with a foot. He ignored the looks from the officials, ignored the verbal warnings.

"Tsuna," he said, voice cracking as he reached down, grabbing his hand, sending Flames through it. He just needed a boost, his Sky just needed a little help.

"Tsuna," He said as hands pulled him away, trying to seperate the Rain from the Sky. "No, Tsuna, you-"

But so much blood had been lost, so much blood was everywhere, but he could come back from this. He was _Tsuna._

As Yamamoto was shoved back, he shouted, "Tsuna, you can't, I still haven't paid back the debt."

He hoped, ridiculously, that Tsuna would stir, Tsuna would sit up and stick out his tongue and tell him he was just getting worked up, and Gokudera was in on it too.

Yamamoto stumbled back.

"Baseball idiot," Gokudera said as Yamamoto fell beside Gokudera, "can I borrow your sword?"

"He's gone? I don't – _can't_ – believe it, this isn't happening, it's _Tsuna-"_

"I'll fall on it, like Dido did in The Aeneid," Gokudera went on tonelessly. "But the gods won't have pity on me for failing, but I'll take my punishment anyway."

"Tell me it's a lie, Gokudera, Tsuna was just shopping-" Yamamoto didn't hear Gokudera as he described his suicide. The Rain Guardian put his head in his hands, feeling tears prick his eyes.

A voice was speaking to Gokudera, who didn't move when he was told they were going to give him first aid.

"Gokudera. You took this game too seriously; go with them," he told him, forcing himself to smile. That's what it was, he found the answer. It's just a role-playing game.

So why did the blood smell real and why didn't Tsuna wake to deal with the police? He always did, normally.

 _That's just a part of this game,_ he told himself, and Yamamoto accepted it.

The Vongola Tenth wasn't dead, he was just playing with them.

* * *

 **Yes, there is another coming after this. :^)**


	4. Imagining

One flash, one little mistake, one refusal to bring in subordinates, and that was it. So simple, he knew how to _live –_ had been doing it since the slums, since the ice, since the damn mafia – so why? Why like this?

One arm on the ground, reminiscient of Jaegar's attack, then he toppled, before picking himself up off the ground and aiming around-

His hand, the only one he had left, slipped and fell limp. His gun clattered the ground, and Xanxus's mind was spinning, wondering why it happened.

"Trash," he groaned, feeling a tug on his gut and then the sick feeling of warm liquid flowing down legs, the wet slop of... _intestines_ on the ground. His legs folded underneath him, red eyes fixed at the shadow of his attacker.

More pain, suspended in disbelief and the big question of _why._ "Fuckin'-" the words were cut off as he choked on his blood. He spat it out, only for his mouth to flood with more.

Fury followed the pain. Endless fury, tinged with desparation, seething under his skin, erupting in his hands. It burned, a familiar burning, as cold rushed down his spine to join the agony in his gut.

Xanxus smirked at the shadow, one last middle finger at the world. "Good luck...dealing with Vongola," he snarled, the blood coating his teeth making his smile gruesome.

A snicker from the shadow as Xanxus tipped over on to his side, guts and flesh sloshing out everywhere. "Already have," the voice murmured, and it all went black for Xanxus.

The last thing Xanxus wished for was for this all to be a dream; one where he was still locked in the ice, _imagining_ this life.

Xanxus, boss of Varia, died.

* * *

 **I'm not sure how to continue these. -brick- if you want to see smth to do with these works...uhhh...feel free to recc it? (preferably on tumblr lmao so I don't forget-)**


End file.
